Keeper of My Indentity
by MegKevin
Summary: Sam would think he was going crazy if he knew what Dean thought of him. Dean would suspect he was going nuts if he knew how Sam saw him.  Just a short piece on how the Winchester brothers really see each other.  Alternate Title: What They Know
1. What Dean Knows

**Disclaimer: **God, I WISH. But Santa isn't THAT generous.

**A/N: **I have recently been on a Supernatural binge, and I couldn't resist. The relationship these brothers have is a writer's paradise. I have so far only seen about halfway through Season Two, but that will be rectified shortly, I assure you. I haven't read much Supernatural fic yet, but I hope you like it. If you do, pretty please review, so that I don't feel the urge to crawl under a rock.

**To those of you who read my K/S serial fic, Living and Dying:** I apologize deeply for the wait. I know it's been FOREVER but my lovely little fairy muse, Akili, has decided a hiatus from all things Star Trek was neccesary-much to my chagrin. I have most of the next chapter finished and am tryng to get something by...probably not Christmas, considering how few presents I have bought, but New Years. Again, I am SO sorry!

Also, Saturnalia started Friday, and tonight there's a lunar ecllipse. It's been a pretty good few days.

**Keeper of My Identity**

**(What They Know)**

**A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self. ~Marian Sandmaier**

You'll be amazed what you'll find, if you look through my eyes. ~Phil Collins, _Look Through My Eyes_

There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda

Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled. ~Jane Mersky Leder

**Dean**

_Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. ~Marc Brown_

Dean had never known anyone with a heart as big as Sam's. Until their father had gone missing and Jessica had died, until Sam had rejoined Dean on the hunt, Dean hadn't known about it. Well, that wasn't quite true. Dean had always known that Sam was kind…at times, too much so. It had gotten him into all kinds of trouble, trouble that Dean had always pulled him out of. But when Sam had hit the road with him again, on the search for their father, Dean had, bit by bit, begun to realize just how extraordinary his brother really was. Sam saw the pain in others, even when he couldn't grasp his own. Sam had compassion for things he had been trained to kill his whole life. Dean suspected nearly everyone of nearly anything. Sam looked until he found solid evidence that someone was guilty. When Sam had told Dean that the vampires weren't killers, Dean hadn't believed him; he had brushed him aside on the tenuous word of a vicious hunter he had met mere hours ago, and his own ingrained instincts. His own brother's word and trust, not to mention entirely alive body, and Dean sided with a man he had known less than a day. He hadn't trusted his own brother-the only person he really knew and did trust in the world. And yet Sam-Sam had trusted a creature he had been trained since birth to kill, with no more proof than his own beating heart. Of course, Sam wasn't foolish or naïve. He was smart and he had been brought up the same way Dean had, never taking anything at face value. But he looked for reasons to trust.

Dean knew that Sam had a gift for seeing the truth. Somehow, Sam could look into people's hearts and see them. It wasn't a mystical or infallible method, by any means, but it was undeniable that Sam sometimes understood things better than anybody. Dean thought that maybe, this gift was what gave him his precognitive abilities, or at the very least, enhanced them. Sam knew how to comfort people, and he didn't just try to make them feel better, he actually felt mercy, and pain for their pain. His capacity for empathy was greater than that of anyone Dean had ever met. Even before he had known that they weren't human-killers, Sam had not felt joy at the death of a vampire. Instead, he had berated Dean and Gordon, said that a decapitation was no cause for celebration. Even the decapitation of a vampire.

Dean knew that Sam was sensitive. He always had been. Even now, despite his strength of will, he still had trouble controlling his reactions when something saddened him. Dean knew it was another facet of Sam's unquenchable, overflowing heart. He knew that a part of Sam hated that sensitivity, because he thought it made him weak, so he always pretended not to notice when Sam's voice got tight or his eyes glistened too much, but he always did see it. Always. Sam came really close to crying at his mom's gravesite, and Dean knew it. He didn't have to see his brother's face to know. And some part of Dean was glad that Sam had that sensitivity, because it meant that Sam was still very human. He wasn't desensitized by all the things they'd seen and killed. He could still cry for a mother he'd never known. Which was why Dean had to protect him. Sam hurt easy, in some ways. So Dean had to protect him from anything that would try to hurt him further. Because Dean absolutely could not stand to see his little brother hurt.

Dean knew that Sam worried like a mother hen. It made him laugh, and it annoyed the hell out of him simultaneously. Sam hovered when he was hurt, and floundered like a fish out of water when he thought Dean was hiding emotional pain. And of course, he was always right. Not that Dean ever told him that. Sam floundered around, trying to help. Sometimes he did, and other times he just succeeded in royally pissing Dean off. But even though Sam sometimes made him feel like hitting something, when he calmed down, he was always grateful for Sam's worry-wart-ing. It reminded him that at least one person actually cared what happened to him.

Dean knew that Sam was obsessive and stubborn. When he set his mind to something, he focused on it with a singular, manic intensity, forsaking everything else. When their dad had closed in on the demon that had killed their mother and Jess, Sam had thought of nearly nothing else, the idea of vengeance all-consuming. Dean knew that it made the backlash when something didn't happen hurt all the more, but also knew that there were few ways to deter a focused Sammy, and no way at all to change his nature-not that Dean wanted to. So he did the best he could by just standing by him and supporting him when things fell down.

Dean knew that Sam sometimes focused too hard. That sometimes, he focused so hard that when the outcome wasn't what he wanted, it knocked his wind out. And Dean made sure to be there, to hold Sam up so that the weight of the disappointment and frustration didn't crush him.

Dean knew that Sam loved freedom and success. It was why he had run off to college. It was why he had walked away from Dean in Indiana. It was why he and his dad had fought constantly. Because Sam hated feeling like his whole life was being determined for him. Because Sam needed to choose his own destiny. Because Sam hated feeling trapped. Sam knew that there were things out there in the dark and he knew they killed innocent people. But in knowing that, he also knew that he had the tools to destroy those things. And in knowing _that_, he knew couldn't let them live. But that meant a life of lies and running and fighting and more running. Never a home or a family or even, really, friends. Because any one close and any place permanent was another liability, another way to get to them. And if he died, no one but his brother-if even him-would know and no one but his brother would care. Like the ghosts they hunted, no one would know he existed, here and gone like a wraith. Without leaving a trace. That's why Sam needed freedom. In the hunter's world, life was predetermined. The only things you didn't know was how soon you would die, and what would kill you, and how much it would hurt. In the normal world, Sam had to pretend everything was okay, but he was able to do what he wanted, and there were hundreds of turns his life could take. He liked being able to choose.

Dean knew that Sam loved him. Sam had always loved Dean more than anyone. It wasn't that he didn't love their father, because he did. It was just that their father was out on hunts half the time when they were growing up, and he had trained them hard when he was home-wherever home happened to be. But Dean was the one who picked him up from school. Dean was the one who brought him home and asked how his day was and actually listened to the answer. Dean was the one who made supper for him and insisted he drink all his milk. Dean was the one who helped him with his homework and kept one eye on him at all times. Dean was the one who hugged him and told him it was okay when he was scared. Dean was the one who promised that he loved Sammy and would always protect him. Both the Winchester boys knew that their dad would do anything for them, and they knew that he loved him. But he had been so busy protecting them from and arming them against the real monsters of the world, that he sometimes forgot that children have their own demons. Dean never forgot. Sammy had always loved Dean. It showed in his face when Dean did something that surprised him with its gentleness. It was there when Dean made wise-ass quips in the middle of a life or death situation. It was there when Dean saved his ass from whatever evil creature had gotten hold of him that day. It was there when Dean was being sarcastic and obnoxious, though in those situations, it was generally accompanied by worry and annoyance. It showed when Dean got hurt. Dean would never, if he lived to be six hundred and forty-seven, ever forget the look on Sam's face when Dean had said, "I'm gonna die…And you can't stop it," and Sam had replied, "Watch me." In that moment, his face had been so full of determination and denial that all the pain had just disappeared. And Dean had known that he wasn't dying anytime soon. Because Sammy loved him that much, and just wouldn't let it happen.

Dean knew Sam was special. Not just for his precognition, or his fighting skills, or his steel resolve. Not even for his willingness to lay down his life for his chosen crusade. Not even for his way with kids, which, frankly, Dean did not understand. No, Dean knew that the thing that was most special about his brother was his ability to care. To hurt. To empathize. To wear a hole in the floor pacing. To love.

Dean knew that Sam's greatest gift was his all-encompassing heart.


	2. What Sam Knows

**Disclaimer:** I'm afraid I don't have the good fortune required to own two really hot brothers and their TV show.

**Keeper of My Identity**

**(What They Know)**

**A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity, the only person with the keys to one's unfettered, more fundamental self. ~Marian Sandmaier**

You'll be amazed what you'll find, if you look through my eyes ~Phil Collins, _Look Through My Eyes_

There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother. ~Astrid Alauda

Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled. ~Jane Mersky Leder

**Sam**

_I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three. ~William Blake_

Sam had never known anyone with a heart as strong as Dean's. He hadn't known it until he had rejoined him on the hunt for their father. Oh, he had always known how brave and strong and loyal Dean was, always. That was Dean. It was one of those things that you always know about a person, but don't fully appreciate. Well, until it's not right in front of you anymore, at least. Sam had always loved his brother, more than anything else in the world. Hell, he had hero-worshiped Dean for as long as he could remember. He would never tell Dean that, of course, but even now he revered his brother. Dean was an amazing fighter, and he could do things Sam couldn't. He could live this nomad hunter life they lived without any regrets. He even enjoyed it. And Sam had, until recently, longed for a normal life. Now he could appreciate what they did, how much good they did, but a part of him still missed being able to pretend. But Dean was different. He liked being not-normal. He liked saving people, even though he got no reward. The only thing he regretted about their life was putting Sam in danger.

Sam knew that Dean was introverted. He was quick as lightning to hit on a pretty girl, and he acted for all the world like an easy-going, macho-man, charming, hero type. And he was, to an extent. But when conversation got close to his heart, he clammed up, tried to blow it off with jokes and distractions. He never liked to talk about his emotions. Sam knew that Dean thought expressing them made him weak, like he was exposing vulnerability. By Sam's guess, it probably all came back to his mother. First she had died. And then their dad became obsessed with hunting. Dean was used being disappointed emotionally. He didn't get the love and affection that he had been given without reserve before Mary had died. So he kept his feelings locked up, because he knew he couldn't depend on anyone to help him deal, or to comfort him. John loved them, and Dean knew that, but he had to look out for himself when it came to what he felt. But even though he didn't really consciously understand that, he had done everything he could to keep Sam from growing up the same way. Sam remembered when they were kids, and Dean was his pillar. His rock, his protector, his favorite person in the world. Dean was still all of those things. When they were little, Dean had taken care of Sam and cared about him. He talked to him and comforted him and babied him and guarded him. He had hugged Sammy all the time and told him he loved him. But when Sammy started to grow up, that started to fade. Now hugging was taboo, and saying 'I love you' was off-limits. Sam loved how much Dean cared about him, but as a child, he had never really seen all of Dean's pain. Children are dependant. It never occurs to them that maybe those they depend on need someone to help them too. And now Sammy was grown and he could see every time Dean locked himself up, and he knew that in some ways Dean still thought of him as that little boy, who needed protecting from everything. But Sam was strong enough to help. Finally, he was big enough to do what he'd always wanted, and support Dean, if Dean would only let him.

Sam knew that Dean had always depended on him. Not the same way that Sam depended on Dean. No, Dean had always depended on protecting Sam, on giving Sam as much as he could, on Sam's very life. Dean clung to that because it gave him something to live for. As long as Sam lived, Dean could live. Because Sam loved him, and more than that, Sam needed him, for protection, and needed him just because he loved Dean. Dean depended on the fact that Sam loved him, that Sam would care if Dean was gone. That Sam would _hurt_ if Dean was gone. Because Dean hated anything that hurt his little brother. And that, keeping Sam unhurt, and the fact that someone would care if he was gone, gave him the will to live.

Sam knew that Dean was smart. He teased Sam a lot about having a college education, but Dean was just as smart, if not smarter than Sam. Not the same way, not book smart, but Dean was smarter about people and the big picture. Yeah, more often than not, Dean was a colossal ass, but when it counted, he cut right to the heart of things. After the carnival, what he had said about Sam trying to make things up to their dad had been right on the nose. It had hurt, sure, like he had stuck Sam's heart with a pin. But it had forced Sam to see the truth. And he had been able to get a handle on himself. Despite Dean's reluctance to talk about his own emotions, he had always helped Sam deal with his own. Whether he meant to or not.

Sam knew that Dean got scared. Who wouldn't, considering the things they knew? It took a whole hell of a lot to really frighten Dean, though. He laughed at demons that captured him, bantered with vampires, and insulted vengeful spirits. Okay, so he wasn't the brightest tool in the shed when it came to staying out of fights. But even death didn't much scare him. When he had been told he had a month to live, he had joked about it, which nearly tore Sam's heart out. He could tell that Dean was a little afraid underneath the mask of sarcasm that was his armor, but for the most part, the prospect of dying was something he had accepted a long time ago. It wasn't, by any means, something he was okay with, but the thing that scared him the most about death was leaving Sam alone. No, Sam knew what scared Dean the most. He could see it in the murderous, panicked expression on Dean's face, hear it in the desperation in his voice, feel it in the almost unnoticeable trembling in his fingers when he grabbed Sam's shoulders. What made Dean really frightened was the idea of losing Sam.

Sam knew that Dean had a temper. Dean could yell like nobody else when he got mad, and he could say some nasty things if you pushed him to it. Sam liked pissing him off. Not making him angry, just getting under his skin. He still made Dean mad on accident, though. Dean could shout at him, and get pretty mean. But when Dean got _really_ angry, it was hardly ever Sam's fault. It was often because of Sam, but rarely Sam's fault. When Dean got that mad, Sam knew to stay out of the way, but to stay close and stop Dean from doing something he could regret later. When Dean got that mad, it was usually because someone had threatened or hurt Sam. During that incident with Gordon and the good vampires (still a weird concept) Sam had been worried when Gordon had overpowered him and tried to talk Dean into killing Lenore. But he had known exactly when things had turned, when any chance that Dean would side against him disappeared. The moment that Gordon drew that knife across his skin, he felt a surge of triumph. The anxiety had reappeared when Lenore's fangs had come out; he knew Dean would kill her if she attacked him, but he knew that it would not be because he was choosing Gordon. Sam had won that battle of loyalties the second the blade had touched him. He had rushed back to the docks as soon as he was sure Lenore was taken care of. He thought Dean might actually kill Gordon. Sam wouldn't morn his death for a minute, but it wouldn't be worth what that would do to Dean. Gordon was a monster, but he was a human, and generally didn't kill anything that didn't deserve it. Dean wasn't a monster, and Sam wasn't about to let him become one.

Sam knew that Dean cared harder than most people. It sounded strange even in his mind, but it was certainly true. Dean didn't let people in often. It wasn't like he had many opportunities, with them never staying anywhere longer than it took to finish a job. Dean cared about other people in general, but in a detached sort of way. He did grow fond of people they met in their travels. Just not fond enough to hurt when he left them. The only people he really loved were Sam and their dad. And that girl, Cassie. Sam suspected Dean had cared a lot about her. Not enough to make him stay with her, though. Dean had only Sam and Dean to care for, so he made up for it by forging his love with a strength that most people couldn't imagine. It was why he flew into a rage when Sam was so much as threatened. It was why he had sagged and let out a huff of relief when he saw Sam alive in the Benders' cage. It was why he'd told them, "If you hurt my brother, I'll kill you," and meant it, despite the fact that he was tied to a chair. It was why, when anyone threatened Sam, he told them that same thing. Sammy was all he had, since John's death. So Dean clung to him with a ferocity that made him capable of anything.

Sam knew that Dean loved him. It was in his face when he aimed his gun at Gordon's head. It was in his eyes when he headed toward Gordon with a gun for the second time, after the vampire hunter had tried to blow Sam to smithereens. Twice. It was in his hands when he gripped Sam's face that night at the Pierpont Inn when he got drunk; despite his normally rough manner, his hands were gentle. It was in his voice when he yelled Sam's name in desperation and fear. His love for his brother ran in his veins, was ingrained deep in his core. It was what defined him. Sam had always counted on that love, because he knew that no matter what, Dean would never stop loving him, or leave him. He knew that his brother would always be there for him. Dean was Sam's grounding force, his lifeline. No matter what, Dean would stand by him.

Sam knew that Dean was extraordinary. Not just for his gift for hunting, or his cocky, smart-ass wit. Not even for his capacity to tell a lie yet still convey all the sincerity and urgency the situation demanded. Not even for his ability to charm his way into anyone's-even a demon's-good graces, and gain their trust. No, Sam knew that what was most exceptional about Dean was the iron will with which he pursued any task. The steely resolve to prevail when an innocent was in danger. The unstoppable force he became when someone he cared about was threatened. The unmatched ferocity with which he loved Sammy.

Sam knew that Dean's greatest gift was his undeviating strength of heart.


End file.
